


Detangling

by gamefish



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Enjoltaire Week 2017, ExR Week 2017, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamefish/pseuds/gamefish
Summary: Not paying attention to where he's going, Enjolras trips...and falls





	Detangling

No matter how many times Combeferre has warned him against texting while walking, Enjolras couldn’t find it in him to kick the habit. Which is how he found himself face-and-phone-first in a bush full of flowers, having tripped--very gracefully--over a giant lump. He stood up quickly, definitely not looking around to see if he’d been caught making a fool of himself by any passers-by. His movement was cut short however, by an infernal bush, who had decided to become one with his scarf. His brand-new scarf that Cosette had knit for him during her stress-busting knit-it-or-quit-it marathon of March 2017. 

It was only as he deliberately bent down to start detangling the nuisance that he fully heard the voice behind him. 

“I’m so sorry, I was too busy watching Gav I didn’t even notice you coming. Are you hurt? Do you need help with that” Two large hands appeared, delicately separating strands of yarn from the evil shrubbery. Each finger had a different color of nail polish on it, with no apparent pattern. The right palm had a blank music staff tattooed down the side, which disappeared into the sleeve of a green jacket. Enjolras tried to stand and regain at least some dignity, but he was still too tangled, trapped in this godforsaken handknit noose. 

“Holy crap I’m so sorry,” the voice continued babbling, though its sincerity was slightly undercut by what sounded like an unsuccessful effort to keep from laughing. The voice did sound like it had a nice smile. Their fingers occasionally touched as they both picked at the individual threads of the tassels and Enjolras felt his face getting redder with each accidental bump. Though that may have also been the blood rushing to his head. Either way, he chose to continue working on the same section as the colorfully nailed fingers, because if there was going to be a silver lining to this embarrassment, he was going to take it. An image of Courfeyrac batting his eyelashes popped into his head, but he mentally batted it away. 

He finally pried the last strand loose and carefully stood up, making sure that none of the tassels ended up clinging to a new branch. He brushed his hands off on his pants as he stood up, and then stumbled back a bit as the blood in his head began to return home. A hand reached out to steady him, and Enjolras looked up, for the first time seeing the face that housed the voice. The face had worried eyes hidden under large caterpillar eyebrows and a nose that quirked a little to the side. Brownish stubble covered his jaw, and as Enjolras tried to pick out if there were auburn patches, or if it was just a trick of the light, he realized that the man was speaking to him.

“Are you ok? Do you need to sit down? I’m so sorry ag--GAVROCHE I see you--leave your sister alone!” The man, who still had his hand on Enjolras’ right shoulder, appeared to be shouting behind him, toward two children he turned to see running down another path lined with flowers. Turning back, the man released his shoulder with a squeeze and Enjolras felt as if the hand were still there, an echo of warmth. He began to apologize again, but Enjolras cut him off.

“It’s ok--I’m fine. I know better than to try to walk and do email. My friends brought me to the park to slow down and smell the roses, and apparently the flowers took offense to being ignored. I’m Enjolras by the way.” He stuck out his left hand and the other man brightened as they shook. 

“A fellow lefty! I’m Grantaire, and happy to be of service to flowers and their captives. Also technically to the children I’m supposed to be watching. We were playing hide and seek and apparently I was being a little too competitive.” Grantaire’s hand was rough and dry and felt like it would be really good at giving massages. 

“I can get that way myself--no worries.” He smiled, hoping to seem charming and warm and not underwater-iceberg-levels-of-intimidating, which is how Courf described his normal talking-to-strangers conversation style. 

“A fellow hide-and-seek champion, eh? You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like. If you think you’ve got what it takes, that is.” Grantaire raised a bushy eyebrow in challenge, and Enjolras was hooked. That charging feeling that he normally got before an important debate or deadline rose up in his gut, but without the weight it usually carried. 

“I’d be up for that. And maybe I could buy you coffee later? As a thank you for rescuing me?” Enjolras asked, confidence rising in response to a challenge.

Smiling, Grantaire replied “Only if you let me buy you one as an apology for tripping you.” He reached out his hand again to seal the deal, and Enjolras took it, his grin too wide to truly pull off the smooth look he was going for. As they turned to walk toward the kids, Enjolras thought to himself that perhaps he should listen to his friends’ advice more often. Or maybe doing things his way could work out after all.

**Author's Note:**

> A small contribution for ExR Week 2017 that had been languishing in my drafts. Hope you enjoy :)


End file.
